MARY. There! I hope ye're satisfied.

[The SERGEANT and DICK pull their chairs to the table, and begin
to eat.]

SERGEANT. Is this all we get? Come, it won't do you any good to
be stingy.
[Obviously, from now on, everything the SERGEANT says drives MARY
nearer madness.]

MARY. It's all I got.

SERGEANT. It isn't a mouthful for a chickadee! Give us some
butter.

MARY. There ain't none.

SERGEANT. No butter on a farm? God, the way you lie!

MARY. I --

SERGEANT. Shut up!

DICK. Have you got any cider?

SERGEANT. Don't ask. She and the man probably drank themselves
stupid on it. [Throws fork on floor.] I never struck such a place
in my life. Get me another fork. How do you expect me to eat with
that bent thing?